


The Last of Them

by shinealightrose



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with Zombies, Lots of Smut and Violence but not at the same time, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/shinealightrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 25 years since a virus nearly decimated humanity. Baekhyun just wants to live one more day, every day, and not get too involved with people. Jongin tends to complicate things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last of Them

**Author's Note:**

> I promised a friend a zombie au, and this is what I came up with haha! This was so out of my comfort zone of genres when I first started writing it. Now, however, I think I rather like it. 
> 
> Warnings: Foul language, smut, violence, gore, guns, crowbars, secondary character death, zombies, past!Xiukai, past!Lubaek, angst. Please don't say you weren't warned. Based on the game world of The Last of Us, but not necessarily the plot.
> 
> "It's not horror! It's the backdrop for Kaibaek angst... plus zombies." - An appeal by me. How come nobody believes me??

"You see that," Baekhyun tells the boy by his side, elbows jostling together as they peer through identical binoculars. They're camped on the tallest tower of the compound for no other reason than they're bored.

"Infected?" Jungkook asks.

"Yeah," says Baekhyun hollowly. "A whole lot of them..."

He swivels the scope, trying to get a better view, not nearly as alarmed as the twelve-year-old kid. The infected are outside, moving slowly, migrating from some place to another and they probably don't even know there are people, uninfected, living half a mile away behind their heavily fortified gates. Just in case though, Baekhyun is armed. Nobody in the compound goes very far away from a weapon of some kind. Even the kids carry bats or crowbars. The last time the infected got rowdy and tried to swarm, they took out the back gate and several people of their community before they could be shot and stopped and completely disposed of.

These ones won't get in though, unless somebody makes a mistake, or draws their attention. It won't be the first time. Or even the tenth. What's more concerning though is that they have a patrol outside the gates, hunting for food. The advanced guard so to speak who are probably unaware of the hordes of infected passing their way. Infected who have a tendency to stampede when they hear the triggering sound of fresh, human meat.

"Are... are they coming to get us?" Jungkook stammers, almost dropping his binoculars.

Baekhyun puts a comforting hand across his back. "No."  _No, probably not_ , is what he means to say. But just in case, "Why don't you go back to find your mom though, ok? Tell them we need to be careful when our hunters come home."

The boy does just that, slinking stealthily down the ladder, just as every person alive today has learned how to live: quietly, secretly, in fear for their lives, and fearful even about death. Or rather, what happens sometimes  _after_ death. 

Baekhyun picks up his binoculars again, determined to keep an eye on the migration just in case something out there changes. Even from a distance he can see the mutated forms of people who were once human, their bodies covered with the fungus that makes them blind, and their brains non-functioning but erratic. CBI is what they call it, Cordyceps Brain Infection. Not that Baekhyun cares about names anymore. It's already been established that there's no cure for it. The government failed. The World Health Organization failed. The entire fucking planet failed as the pandemic took out 60% of the population, and only the Fireflies can still claim to be working on a vaccine. 60% though. Baekhyun can't even compute that number, but numbers just like names don't matter anymore. He's already lost lots of people he knew and loved to the zombie-like creatures or else the environment created because of them. Just about every person he ever grew attached to: gone. There's not a lot to live for anymore, and Baekhyun isn't the first person to admit that, either privately or out loud. But everyone in the compound has had to develop some sort of survivor's instinct, even the children. It's a commonality that binds them when nothing else does. Twenty-five years after a fungus infected the world, humanity hangs on its last leg. And still, they fight on.

 

 

 

 

There's not a lot of privacy at night. The compound sounds like it could be a massive fort, but mostly it's a couple glorified barns strung together with several wing lofts, all powered by a hydroelectric dam and surrounded by yards of fenced in safe-zones. Safe is of course a relative term. Nothing is safe. No one is ever completely safe. And no one ever gets a lot of privacy either, although Baekhyun has managed to elbow his way into a snug little 'room' with three walls. He used to have a cot to go with it, but when Jungkook's baby sister was born, Baekhyun lent it to the pregnant mother, but after that harrowing evening and gallons of birthing fluid, Baekhyun never insisted on getting it back. He sleeps on a pallet now, no pillow, but he does have a couple blankets, which get shared whenever Jongin is around. Baekhyun doesn't necessarily share his three-quarter room as much as Jongin takes it over. Theirs is a complicated relationship if one wants to call it that.

He isn't asleep when Jongin comes home. Baekhyun never sleeps until the patrol comes back, and it's less out of fear for who might not return than it is fear the patrol may have lead any infected back with them. This night, however, no alarms sound. Just the whinnying of the few horses they took out, and the stampede of tired men's boots, and the slither of dead animals that will hopefully sustain them for a few weeks longer. Tomorrow Baekhyun will have to help clean the animals. Skin their hides and stab at their flesh. He feels like an infected himself when he's covered up to his arms in blood, slaughtering creatures for life energy. Tomorrow though. All that will happen tomorrow. 

In the meantime he just has to put up with Jongin, his bed mate whose feet Baekhyun tracks as they scamper up the ladder to the loft, quietly disappearing into another corner of the barn. He listens to the vague sounds of clothes being stripped from his body, and a few splashes of what by now must be nearly freezing water, rinsing the dirt from his skin. 

It's a cold body that slides finally beneath his blanket, reaching out instinctively for warmth. Baekhyun freezes, curses, and tries to roll away but Jongin is insistent and eventually gathers him in.

"You're a block of ice," he mutters, jerking away from the chilled fingers around his waist.

"So warm me up."

Jongin's whispers are already needy, coaxing. It'll take a minute for Baekhyun to warm him up, or to warm up to Jongin's advances. 

"Warm  _yourself_  up. How was the hunt" he asks, in between seething, Jongin's hands worming further up his chest and teasing his nipples. 

"What about it," says Jongin gruffly, his mind already a million miles away from whatever happened outside. 

Baekhyun doesn't press him further. It takes all his willpower not to crawl away, to nab his blanket and roll over, away from the frozen body and the prying fingers, the legs like ice chips that grip his own. "You're fucking cold," he growls again. 

"Yeah, well there's a simple fix for that," says Jongin again and this time he doesn't play around as he slides naked completely on top of Baekhyun's body. One elbow braced against the floor, the other fidgets with Baekhyun's shirt, yanking it up and Baekhyun jerks again when his chest is met completely with Jongin's. It's a short few seconds only until Jongin slides down, cold lips replacing fingers as they clasp around his nipples, worrying the skin until Baekhyun gasps from pain. Jongin comes up for air long enough to divest Baekhyun of his shirt completely, almost knotting it around his up-stretched arms. Baekhyun writhes, flinging the material away, and gasps again when Jongin's mouth finds his neck, nose nuzzling into the softest and one of the warmest spots on his body. 

"Did you run into any of the infected?" Baekhyun tries to stay cognizant. "I-I saw a group passing this way in the afternoon. Did you see them?"

Jongin takes a minute to reply, his bare hips already rutting against Baekhyun's rough cotton pants. "Saw them," he groans against his chin. 

"Yeah?" Baekhyun gasps. His body is starting to acclimate, absorbing Jongin's cold, rewarming itself as parts his body begin to awake. He adjusts the top blanket that's started to fall to one side, pulling it over both of their heads, meanwhile Jongin fusses with his pants. One hand wrenches with the fabric, the other grips Baekhyun's forearm still above his head, pinning him down. 

They haven't done this in a while. Baekhyun isn't always so malleable, Jongin's not always around. He gets bored hanging around the compound, preferring the excitement of the outside world. Skirting hordes of infected, crossing the quarantine zones. He takes every job that comes their way, passing through in the night, in the day, away for weeks at a time. Baekhyun hadn't even seen him during the summertime. Jongin and his then boyfriend Minseok left in the spring with their packs bristling, weapons loaded, supplies packed into every pocket on their persons. Then they and a dozen other men took off for a trading excursion with a supposedly non-militant group of survivors on two week journey north. Half of their numbers hadn't returned, including Minseok. Including Luhan, who was the last person Baekhyun fucked before Jongin returned with a hollow heart and turned his eyes - and his needs - on Baekhyun. 

Jongin's dick is pretty familiar to him now. His kisses not so much. Hence how he gasps when Jongin attacks, wet tongue and teeth pulling apart his chapped lips to find their way inside. For a few seconds, Baekhyun doesn't even know what to do. He's not used to sucking face. His best skills lie in gutting dead animals and giving head. He's pretty good with his thighs spread wide and if Jongin would just let him, he'd be awesome plowing his way home.

He isn't good with emotions. Not his forte, never been his thing. Any lip-on-lip contact is about as foreign to him as a woman's body, and he's experienced the latter exactly zero times. Kisses make things complicated; they're the gateway to a more solid relationship, and relationships in this world have a tendency to be torn asunder. Ask just about every adult over thirty about the people they've lost. Ask half the kids about their parents, if they still remember them. Kisses are no things good, and the body doesn't even need them for pleasure. 

So why Baekhyun gives in after a good twenty seconds of panicking, he doesn't know. Jongin at least gives up a few seconds after that, as most of his energies are then spent shoving Baekhyun's legs apart and slicking him open. Baekhyun is thoroughly warm by the time Jongin sheaths himself inside, both panting as he struggles to adjust to the pulsing muscle lodged halfway up his ass. 

"You never finished telling me about the patrol," he tells Jongin, eyes clenched shut as the other's sweaty body hovers heavily over his, Baekhyun's hard, squirming cock trapped between.

Jongin grunts, either because he's refusing to answer or because Baekhyun inadvertently clamped around his dick. It's probably the latter. And he continues to not answer as the two find a rhythm and Baekhyun sneaks a hand to stroke his own cock since Jongin seems a little preoccupied about not coming unravelled at the seams. He thrusts and sweats, droplets of moisture landing against Baekhyun's forehead until his hips start to stutter and he nearly collapses on top of Baekhyun completely. 

The finish isn't spectacular, at least not for Baekhyun. Jongin pulls out, cum oozing out of his hole, and Jongin only lazily helps to finish him off with his hand. 

"Thanks for coming inside me, jerk," Baekhyun bites sarcastically, when his own orgasm is passed. He tosses Jongin off. Then he rolls off the blanket to try to keep his pallet at least somewhat clean, fumbling for a smaller cloth to wipe his chest and thighs. Jongin doesn't move, breaths coming a little easier now but still panting weakly. 

"You're welcome."

Baekhyun scoffs, otherwise ignoring that they just had sex. "You still haven't answered me," he says. "No trouble outside, or what?"

The shallow breaths seem to come to a halt completely, Jongin going silent, and Baekhyun turns to look at him with curiosity in his gaze. 

"There was... a little trouble, yeah."

"A little?" Baekhyun's voice goes soft, worried.

"Yeah..." But Jongin won't say, not until Baekhyun nudges his shoulder, and when that doesn't work, kicks his legs."

"Who," he gasps. "Who... didn't come back? Quit messing around and tell me, Jongin."

A whole age seems to pass within a minute, every face Baekhyun knows went out there suddenly swarming past his eyelids as he wonders which of them he'll never see again. "Who was it, Jongin?"

And finally he gets his answer, almost a whisper from Jongin like if he doesn't say it loud enough, maybe it won't be true. "Junmyeon... It was Junmyeon."

 

 

 

 

In some ways, Baekhyun would be happier if he could just dive into the butchering process. Take out his dagger and mutilate the animals. Unfortunately, there is a process to follow: furs to skin, arteries to slit so the blood will drain first, all of which takes time and then necessitate a waiting period where Baekhyun has nothing to do but avoid conversation about their newest loss. Junmyeon wasn't close to him - nobody is, really - but it's hard to be happy when a member of their 'family' gets lost in the woods tracking a doe and accidentally alerts the infected to the entire party of hunters. People don't just die from zombie attack. People are left for sacrifice, Junmyeon the distraction while the rest return to safety, and nobody asks if Junmyeon did a noble thing or if that noble thing was decided for him. It's just not done, and if you weren't there it's best never to know. Baekhyun won't get anything further out of Jongin, and after a few days nobody will talk about the dead or undead man again. Survival around here is as much mental as it is physical. You do what you can, and you suppress what you can. Baekhyun is twenty-five and he's learned this as much as anyone. 

"Hey, Baekhyun?" Jungkook's voice finds him again. Baekhyun doesn't know why half the kids in the compound seem to gravitate around him. Most of their dads are dead or missing, that could be why. The women and mothers are scarce and fiercely protected. There are less than ten of them in the compound right now, and most are either too old to play or else preoccupied with the babies and toddlers, specifically, keeping them quiet. Baekhyun's heard of a few paradises across the country, where the communities are larger, safer, and children run amok playing. Jongin says, however, that such paradises are as much a myth as heaven, and about as far away as the time before apocalypse. It's what the government in exile tries to pretend the quarantine zones are like, little heavens on earth, when the reality is much, much worse. 

'Believe me, we've got it better out here,' Jongin claims, and Baekhyun believes him. He should know. He was born in a quarantine zone, and even if he hasn't been back since he was five, he's got plenty of memories and the tales of the wanderers, and no reason to doubt anything has changed.

"Baekhyun?" Jungkook says again.

"Yeah, what is it?" He doesn't mean to sound as gruff, and Jungkook looks affronted when he finds him, before Baekhyun tries to soften his smile and reassure the kid. When their mothers are busy, Baekhyun becomes everyone's favorite uncle. Luhan used to tease him about it. Luhan used to- but Luhan is gone. 

"You said you'd teach me how to carve a deer this time."

"I did?" Baekhyun humors him for a moment and Jungkook nods. "I did, huh. Well, kid, you're learning from the master, and right proud you ought to be about that. Did you practice archery today though? You know you're supposed to practice first thing in the morning, right?"

Jungkook shakes his head, properly admonished, but he quickly smiles again when Baekhyun assures him it will be alright, as long as he does it later. They train the kids here from a young age. Just hitting the target isn't enough. Every eight-year-old can do that. It's the speed and absolute precision though that could mean the difference some day between life and death.

Baekhyun was born in a quarantine zone, all military vehicles and night patrols, looting and bribes, spoiled rations and government approved propaganda-infused afternoon movies, when the electricity is working. No one carries a weapon, legally, so it's only your fists for protection when the robbers come at night, and somehow they always have at least a crowbar heavy enough to bash in somebody's skull. Baekhyun was five years old and wailing when a teenage boy plucked him away from his parents' corpses and smuggled him out of the city. He didn't know it then, but Chanyeol was a member of the Fireflies, that rebel group resisting the police state and searching for the cure for CBI even when everyone else has given up hope. Supposedly they're close. Supposedly though, they've always been close, and supposedly nobody has seen the fruit of their work, or whatever it is they really do. Even Chanyeol grew disillusioned with them, leaving their facilities with a ten-year-old Baekhyun in tow, and so began their life as wanderers. Chanyeol's still out there somewhere, most likely. Baekhyun kind of knows where he is, but he's never too sure. What is surety in a world like this anyways? Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol grew tired of the whole wandering thing eight years ago and decided to stay put, but then Chanyeol moved on down the road anyways, ever restless. He's seen the man who practically raised him only once since then, three years ago. Before Luhan came into his life and left. Before Jongin took up residence in Baekhyun's life, Jongin who hasn't yet left but perhaps that too is just a matter of time.

"Hey, have you seen Jongin today?" Baekhyun asks the kid in between deft knife strokes done slower than usual for demonstration purposes. 

"Yeah. He was down by the dam earlier."

Baekhyun hums. The dam has been giving them problems lately, shutting off and on because the parts are old and they don't really have a stock of hardware to replace things when they break. 

It's mid-afternoon when he finishes lugging away the meat supplies in the underground storage cooler and goes to find Jongin. In actuality though, he's there looking for Bo Ah. She's the resident brainiac, the person who keeps the power on, if not necessarily the one to muscle around and do all the heavy labor. Those tasks usually get left to guys like Jongin and Sehun, and occasionally Baekhyun when there's a shortage of manpower. He likes to heckle her though, and anyway, searching out Bo Ah is an easier excuse to see what Jongin is up to during the day. They tend not to talk to one another much during daylight hours, other than general acknowledgements that the other lives. 

Baekhyun only nods at him now, noting Jongin's shirtlessness out of the corner of his eye and his wet trousers from where he's been in the water inspecting some part of the dam. His hair is slicked back at an awkward angle, and still looks good. Baekhyun's never figured out how he manages that. He definitely doesn't comment on it now, memories of Jongin's wet lips still in his mind from last night. Lips that are wet again today but for a different reason. Instead he puts his hands on his hips, pretending intelligence as he listens to Bo Ah reciting problem areas to another one of the engineers. He gets as far as penstock malfunction if something isn't fixed soon, sluice gates and a massive biofouling project before his brain shuts off. Jongin snaps his fingers in front of his face to get him to focus again, and only then does he realize that the other is actually speaking to him. 

"W-What?" he stammers, caught off guard. 

Jongin has the arrogance to sigh, as if Baekhyun is wasting his precious time. "I said, have you seen or heard from your Firefly friend in a while?"

"Who, Chanyeol? Why?"

"Because I'd like to get a message to him," Bo Ah interrupts. "We need some major supplies if we're going to keep this dam operational through the winter, and he's the only person we know who has the contacts."

"Chanyeol's not a Firefly anymore," says Baekhyun.

Jongin actually rolls his eyes. "I know. But he does have contacts, right?" 

"Maybe." He's stalling actually. Because of course Chanyeol has contacts. He runs with underground smugglers now and can probably get a person anything for the right amount of money or persuasion (except of course a vaccine because they don't exist). The problem is, one just doesn't send a letter to a former rebel turned smuggler and ask for machinery. 

"Well then," Jongin persists impatiently, "do you think you can persuade him or not?"

Baekhyun frowns. Persuasion with Chanyeol means face-to-face. Which means going to meet him, outside the compound at a distance of roughly one week to a part of the country somewhere in the east. And Baekhyun's is the only face that's liable to work. 

"I can," he agrees, even without thinking it through. There's no real point to denying it, or refusing the demand he knows is coming next. 

"So you can go find him for us, good." Bo Ah smiles like she's accomplished a great feat, setting this up. Meanwhile Baekhyun already feels sick inside, and Jongin is observing him slyly like he's waiting for Baekhyun to panic and refuse. A child starts wailing from somewhere up in a loft, and before it's hushed, Baekhyun's mind is already running through every face in the compound that survives and relies on the electricity the dam produces and who will likely die faster if it's not properly maintained. There's no refusing anything at all. Survivor's instinct, and just because Baekhyun is only marginally safer inside four large security fences than he is outside doesn't mean that small margin isn't important to everyone else involved. 

"Yeah. I can go. Just tell me when."

"Tomorrow then," says Bo Ah. "You and Jongin, Seohyun and Tao." 

 

 

 

 

The thing about the outside is that Baekhyun doesn't like it. Everything becomes a wilderness, even places that were once considered civilized and now lay abandoned. He's seen it plenty in the years he travelled as a child, and to be honest it's a miracle he's even still alive. Outside, there are actually far more ways to die than merely becoming infected or wandering into hordes of the once-human beasts. Outlaw rebels, wild animals, scared people hiding in their own homes who shoot first and check for infected later. Even the slightest ailment untreated can easily lead to death.

Of course though it's CBI that fuels the imagination. Once upon a time, zombie apocalypse stories were just a myth, a thing exploited by entertainment and pop culture, so Baekhyun's heard. Then a virus thought only to infect plants and the occasional animal species mutated and adapted to overwhelm humans as well. It spreads by spores, or else direct contact. Baekhyun's seen people bitten before. One small bite is all it takes for the fungus to take root. A day later the person's eyes turn red, their mind starts to go, and they turn erratic from fear, from loss of senses, attacking anything that moves. Given a few days they start to visibly mutate and turn blind. Runners, is what they're called, because it's the only action left to them. They run and run, terrified of everything, of themselves and of others. So hungry as well. 

Whoever gets bitten might as well shoot themselves in the head first. Or ask someone else to. It's kinder that way. Not that the infected will ever know or remember anything after a few days. Left unchecked they continue to mutate, continue to decay, growing ever more vicious with the years, grunting and clicking their tongues, mere echoes of who they once were. 

"You ever seen a Bloater before, Tao?" 

"No, and I don't want to, thank you very much." Tao sighs, shaking his head at Seohyun who asked. 

Seohyun is tough. Baekhyun would say for a girl, but then he'd be considered sexist and truth to be told, there are plenty of women he's met more fierce than an average man. Survivors are tough for those who like to rough it out. Seohyun may be petite, but there's no one else Baekhyun would willingly shadow in a fight. No doubt she's seen her share of every kind of infected known to man. Bloaters, clickers, rogue Fireflies itching to dissect people's brains in their search for a cure. 

Jongin catches Baekhyun's eye as if to ask the same thing, one eyebrow cocked like the smirking brat he is. Baekhyun ignores him. Instead his hand automatically passes over his pocket, checking for shivs in case he ever needs one. Not that anything would help in the case of a Bloater. 

They're two days out from the compound, Baekhyun already feeling a million miles from home. It's been ages since he took this route himself. Tao and Seohyun know it a little better, this woodland path that skirts the river a couple times and will eventually lead them to Chanyeol. Jongin only knows a part of it. 

"This is about as far as we got last time," he tells the others now, "before we headed north instead." 

_North._  Baekhyun conceals a shiver. North, from where the others never came home. 

"Hey, Baekhyun, did I ever tell you-"

"No."

"- that we ran into a huge bear?!" Jongin doesn't seem to care that Baekhyun even spoke. 

_We, we,_ who is  _we_. He'd rather not hear it.

"A black bear?" Tao has to ask.

"No, a polar bear. Tao, what do you think? Of course it was a black bear."

Seohyun glares at them both. "Spotted or striped, if you keep chattering like this, every bear in the county will be on us, and probably more than that."

"We can fight a bear. Baekhyun and Tao can climb a tree," says Jongin.

Only Tao scoffs loudly at the provocation. Baekhyun still pretends he doesn't hear. He and Jongin may sleep with each other, but that doesn't necessarily mean they get along. Ever since Jongin came back that last time, he's had it out for Baekhyun, slowly pestering him into insanity. It's in contrast to his otherwise needy behavior and sexual desires. 

Later that night they do huddle under a tree. There's a light rain pattering down, their hoods are up, drawstrings pulled tight. A few droplets stain Jongin's eyelashes and Baekhyun drags his finger tips carefully over them, unclumping the delicate brown lashes while Jongin flutters his eyes. 

"Sleep, you two," says Seohyun without glancing at them directly. Tao is already taking her advice, back to a tree, knees in the air and his head swaying sideways. 

"After you," says Baekhyun to Jongin, smug grin because Jongin is surprisingly easy to fluster. It's just his recovery time is quick.

"You know they were together, right?"

"Who?" Baekhyun asks, before wishing he hadn't. 

"Them. Behind our backs. Did you even know?" 

There's menace in his voice, like he thinks it's Baekhyun's fault. Baekhyun pulls at his shoelace, intent on fixing the strings properly in case of an emergency flight. Still thinking about the feeling of Jongin's lashes, still thinking about his kisses. Wishing still that he wouldn't be so fixated on them. This is why Baekhyun doesn't do relationships. They're messy, complicated, taxing and all around boring. He and Luhan didn't have that kind of relationship. Theirs was an open thing, so whatever Luhan did with anybody else behind whoever's back is none of Baekhyun's business, even if Jongin thinks it is.

"Shut up and sleep, Jongin," is all he says. He doesn't care who or what Luhan did before he died. All of that is in the past, and why fixate on what can't be changed when the present is already enough. 

 

 

 

 

One of the only things scarier than crossing a quarantine zone is crossing an abandoned quarantine zone. Twenty-five years ago this was a bustling city. Now it's a collection of ruins, hollowed out shells of buildings, debris, overgrowth and the stench of death. When the fungus couldn't be contained the Federal Disaster Response Agency took control of the military and declared martial law. Survivors were rounded up to keep them safe, and the countryside actually bombed to ward off infected. Now the FEDRA operates on a local basis only, and no one gives a crap what happens in the country, unless they happen to chase out the rebels too far. Inside the zones though, well not even that was enough to maintain proper harmony. To Baekhyun's knowledge, there's only a handful of big quarantine zones left in the country and most of them don't look much better than the abandoned urban cities like this one.

They have to cross it. They've been traveling now for five days, but it's another five-day detour if they tried to skirt it completely, and they're already having to pass through one of more suburban-like areas. 

"Ladies, first," says Baekhyun. It's redundant because Seohyun is already trucking on, hunched over and speed-walking in a quiet manner as she scopes out the terrain. All of them have weapons out at the ready, in this case, several pistols and rifles split between them, and Baekhyun knows Jongin has the supplies necessary to throw together a few molotov cocktails somewhere in the depths of his pockets. 

Bandits roam zones like these, scavengers, or worse. And those who didn't leave are probably likely now infected. 

"Three up ahead," Seohyun whispers, before throwing a finger to her lips warning the others to stay quiet. She has a shiv in her hand; Jongin and Tao pull out one each as well. Only Baekhyun hangs back, a shiv in one hand, loaded pistol in the other with the safety off. The infected can't see them. They're still, hovering in place, croaking in a way that makes turns Baekhyun's stomach to knots. They're almost evenly positioned down the alley way they're passing. Seohyun sneaks and takes the first one out, strangling the creature before the others have even noticed. Jongin takes out the second in the same way, and only Tao is a few seconds late to his. He jumps out behind the fence line just as the infected hears the others, and bludgeons the thing before it's had a chance to run a pace. Its guts stream across the ground like a fan, a slow-motion display that has even Tao winching backwards. Baekhyun quickly scampers to join them, ears open wide in case their presence has alerted anyone else in the area, infected or otherwise. There's not a sound. 

"Quickly now," Jongin whispers. He waits for Baekhyun to pass him and then makes up the rear, Seohyun still in the lead. For the next twenty minutes there's no sign of anything else moving, although the cityscape slowly turns industrial as the streets dry up and the grid becomes confusing. 

"Through the warehouse," Seohyun instructs. "That's going to be the easiest way through."

Easy is, of course, a relative term. But then, everything is. 

In some ways Baekhyun prefers industrial quarters like this. It's less personal, less human history. Instead of abandoned homes with children's toys scattered about, the warehouse is all steel cabinets and doors and clinical looking rooms. It's also probably crawling with infected somewhere in the caverns below, but Seohyun purposefully leads them to a staircase to the second floor where they can climb onto a landing of a warehouse next door. The balcony cringes under their weight, rusting metal squeals that make Baekhyun's ears tingle, and Jongin grabs onto the fleshy part of his arm when Baekhyun hops over the railing. 

The second building is very much like the first. Tao peers down another stairwell, crouches and then swears there are infected in the basement, so they avoid them by moving stealthily through the building. The main problem occurs when they reach the end of the hallway and there's only way one out. A pole they can easily shimmy down but it leads to a dilapidated courtyard where people are moving. Not infected, but probably not friendly.

"Fuck, who are they?" Seohyun curses.

"Not Fireflies, probably rebels," Baekhyun answers. They have the benefit of being concealed. A short wall with a couple windows, the glass shattered ages ago, and a small ledge outside hidden by one large, overgrown tree. 

"Someone count," Jongin says, just as Tao answers.

"Ten. Best as I can tell."

"We can take them out, fine," says Seohyun. "Aim carefully. Don't waste a bullet."

"We're going to draw out the infected if we do that," Jongin warns her.

"Yes, well that's a chance we're going to have to take. If it draws them out and they attack the rebels, easier on us."

Baekhyun notices that they don't even bother considering if the men in the courtyard aren't enemies. It's a habit of life, he supposes. Bands of men operating in plain sight in abandoned zones don't usually put out a party invite, nor do they particularly like others interfering in their plans. And definitely not guys with so many rifles slung across their backs. 

"Are we sure they're..." Tao starts to say, as if wondering the same thing Baekhyun is. But then there's a sound from somewhere beneath them on the first floor, and one of the outlaws fires off a round of ammunition into the building without a second's pause.

"What was that?" another one asks, while the first one reloads.

"Don' know. Though' I saw somethin' move. So I shot it." 

And that's all the reason Baekhyun needs to go forward with their plans. Seohyun motions for him and Jongin to slide down the pole first. She and Tao will cover them from above, assuming all goes well. Baekhyun lets Jongin slip down first, silently, and once he's sure the rebels haven't noticed anything new - they're sorting through a collection of boxes that look like they're awaiting transfer - he shimmies down beside him. Both crouch instantly, Jongin with his rifle, Baekhyun with a bow and arrow. He's thankful for the tree and the partially knocked over fence line which conceal them from the enemy. As soon as they're in position though, Seohyun fires the first shot. One enemy down, then three more fall before anyone is the wiser, Jongin, Tao and Seohyun already picking their next targets while Baekhyun strings another arrow. 

The courtyard turns to chaos with the men shouting and taking up defensive positions. Seohyun knocks off another one who was just too slow, but then tides turn as they start to fire back. Baekhyun barely finds his next target, eyesight zeroed in but then there's a cry from his left and Jongin turns instantly to shoot the surprise attacker. The man's brains burst all over the cement as Baekhyun scrambles away to the other side of the tree, ducking below the fence under a pile of crates. 

"Over to your right," says Jongin, like Baekhyun hasn't already done so. He checks the perimeter, sure that his line of sight is protected before restringing the arrow and peering around the crate. Several more shots fire from above with only a few grunts coming from below. Jongin is already reloading his weapon, searching for someone else. Meanwhile Baekhyun lets his arrow fly. He doesn't have time to congratulate himself when the point sinks deep into the neck of his opponent. Jongin tells him once again to prepare to move. They wait while the others distract the men on the ground, and then they take off.

A bullet narrowly misses Baekhyun's head, splintering the fence beside him instead. He ducks instinctively, although Jongin is already behind him, dragging him by the arm and pulling him along. His blood pulses, heart racing. Every echo and barrage of gunfire makes him jolt, but they reach the back corner of the courtyard unscathed although far from safe. He looks back just in time to see the ledge behind which Seohyun and Tao are hiding come crashing down. So does the two's only means of escape from this side of the building. Something in Baekhyun's throat chokes him up, like his tonsils are mutating and growing too large for his head, fear raging all around.

"They'll find another way out. Come on!" Jongin brings him back to the world. 

At least someone from the second floor is still firing back, and that's just enough to spark some hope. They don't have time to count how many are left, alive or dead. They barely have time to slip out the back gate and barrell across the street. Jongin practically pushes him into an opposing building as wheels from a jeep squeal around the corner. Baekhyun smells burnt rubber and decay, stale water from a burst pipe, but nobody's yet realized that they two have escaped. The driver alights from the vehicle, then an automatic weapon opens a round of bullets, all pelting in the opposite direction. Whether or not they find their targets, Baekhyun doesn't know. Doesn't want to know. 

"We keep moving." Jongin drags him up by the scruff of his shirt, already stepping lightly over the debris inside the building, a shop that's now no more than a husk. More traces of a once-functioning world, the kind of which Baekhyun has no living memory. His mind is still with Seohyun and Tao trapped in the warehouse, not even going so far as to suppose they might be dead. Instead, he wonders what they'll do next without them. Keep moving, Jongin said. They can't afford to slow down and wait. The longer they remain in the city, the greater the danger. However much he wants to rest, to sit down and breath and calm his heart, there is no respite. There is no safe zone. He only pauses long enough to admire an abandoned device that bears some resemblance to the radios he's seen the Fireflies talking through. Jongin scoffs but doesn't push him any further. By the time they sneak out the other side, there's silence from the direction of the courtyard. It's different though, eerie. Both of them pause as a chill makes it way through Baekhyun's body. Then they hear it. Croaking, wailing, grunting, groaning. Shrieks from the outlaws left alive but who probably won't be for long. 

"Infected! Let's move!"

Back into the building they go, taking cover just as a man bursts out of the gate, flinging a now useless weapon aside as the infected give chase. Three of them, all croaking as they stalk their prey, fast, faster than the man who yells for help nobody's going to give him. Baekhyun nearly pukes his guts when he hears them victorious. He and Jongin duck beneath a counter, frozen in fear, petrified that they'll be heard next. The man, the victim, the dead man's wails are hideous. So is the sound of flesh being ripped apart and the subsequent devouring of his body, ravenously shared between the infected beasts. All the while, unbeknownst to any of them, two humans huddle together, one shivering while the other holds him still. 

Baekhyun's teeth chatter, adrenaline pumping uselessly. It's the five slowest minutes of Baekhyun's life, bones snapping, infected snarling, fighting each other over in the quest for fleshy destruction. And then there's silence again, relative silence. Only the beating of Baekhyun's heart, the echo of Jongin's heart, pulsing against his back as they cling together. The slight groaning of the infected who haven't exactly moved away. They're still on the street, hovering over the wreckage of the corpse, waiting for something to attract their attention. 

Jongin slides out first, careful to not disturb even the tiniest speck of dust. He motions for Baekhyun to move next, and then he points towards the back of the shop, both praying there's another exit that's both further from the courtyard and the street. They locate it, just as another man locates them.

"I found them! Those bastards!" the outlaw cries, gun already firing. All in the same moment, the infected start to rush, another man follows the first, and Jongin and Baekhyun find themselves trapped in the middle. They duck, Baekhyun already in a panic, but he manages to pull out his pistol while Jongin blasts the first attacker. Blood sprays across the man behind him. He's less terrified than pissed off, that is, until he sees the infected coming their way as well. 

"Shit!" he cries. 

Suddenly it's three against three against a common foe. The man ignores them, firing his weapon into the first infected and misses the vital area. The infected continues unhindered until Baekhyun blasts it with one shot between its fungus-infected eyes. Another one lunges at Jongin who struggles for a second before managing to fling it around into a wall and strangling it with his bare hands. That leaves the third one which seems to have it senses on Baekhyun. He's sitting on the floor, back against a wall, fear in his eyes although the infected can't see it. Can only hear him, because it already knows where he is. He fires the pistol, only to hear it click and there's no way he's going to get another round loaded in time. Apparently the other man is in the same predicament, or else he panicked because he too lunges at the creature while it's distracted, jumping it from the side. Baekhyun pulls the shiv from his pocket, determined to defend himself from close range if he must. He glances once to his left, Jongin subduing the second monster and not able to come to his assistance. The other man is slowly losing his battle. His final shout is the death knell before bones shatter in the grip of the infected. Baekhyun scrambles to his feet while it destroys the man's body and plunges the shiv into its flesh, yanking hard with every muscle in his body and half-severing its head.

Both it and the man lay dead at his feet when Jongin grabs his shoulder. Covered in grime, Jongin is near breathless as his hands travel over Baekhyun's body from head to waist, eyes darting around from every cut to every bruise. 

"Are you hurt!? Are you alright? Did it - it didn't get you anywhere, right?"

"I could ask the same thing about you." Baekhyun shoves his hands away. Now that the moment's passed, he feels oddly more shaken up than he was before. Like something else will lunge out of a doorway at any point and Jongin's panic isn't helping him one bit.  "What happened to keep moving? We should get out of here."

"What, am I not allowed to make sure you're fine?"

"Tell that to Seohyun and Tao if they ever make it out." Baekhyun bites down hard on his tongue, sets his shoulders square and tries to stomp off. Jongin, however, stops him again, and he almost collapses at his touch. He feels filthy, like he's also died and become undead. His fingers feel chafed, arm muscles still pulsing like they'll hold the memory forever of him shredding the the head of the infected. His eyes unseeing but forever hearing the death cries of everyone who has died. He can't even look at the bodies, feels sure he will vomit, and Jongin must pick up on his because he yanks him through the doorway suddenly into another room, a storage closet with one high busted window and a back entrance. It's where they were trying to get to all along, only this time Baekhyun is less anxious to leave the relative sanctuary of the enclosed space. 

"Baekhyun, breathe. It's alright, okay." Jongin holds him up against a lopsided counter, half sitting him on the uneven surface because Baekhyun can't keep himself upright at all. 

He has no words, almost no thoughts. Jongin stands before him, and yet he peers off to his right, unable to look directly at him.

"Take your backpack off."

"What?"

He barely complies so Jongin slips the straps off his shoulders, his pack falls back onto the counter, and Baekhyun doesn't put up a fuss.

"Your shirt is covered in filth. Come on, get it off. You'll feel better." 

Now that he thinks about it, he does feel disgusting. His fingers still won't function though and he gets as far as the bottom of his shirt before Jongin does it for him, pulling the fabric up as carefully as the few times where they fucked nice and slow back in the compound. Except this time he only strips him of his shirt, tossing it aside and forcing Baekhyun to move so he can reach into his pack and find him something else to wear. 

Baekhyun shivers. There's no cold air, he shouldn't even be chilled. His whole body is damp though from sweat and exertion, and suddenly Jongin's presence is overwhelming. They've lost two of their party today, probably. But Jongin is still here, and Baekhyun is still alive. He killed several men, and also several former men, and out of nowhere he wonders if there's a God somewhere above who will forgive him, or if the souls of the infected have already been gathered to Him. 

"Baekhyun?"

He must have whimpered, because Jongin looks at him with something akin to pity or worry or fear or just... "Jongin," he says softly, arms winding around Jongin's torso. Instead of the hug he craves though, Jongin pulls back.

"Hang on a sec." He drops his backpack as well and yanks off his own shirt which is just as disgusting as Baekhyun's. It's hard to hold him when he keeps moving, but Baekhyun keeps on trying. He needs someone to lean on, and Jongin is the only one he sees. The only person he's got. It no longer seems crazy that this is the reason they're together in the first place. Why Jongin came to him just a couple days after the excursion which stole half of their group away, and instead of coming home with a boyfriend, Jongin came home with no one, but Baekhyun was there and also now alone. No one would call their relationship providential. Death stole away their other halves, and Baekhyun may not have loved Luhan, but he missed him. Just the thought of him, the warmth of him, unspoken half promises to protect and look out for each other, but each failed spectacularly. 

"Put this on." Jongin thrusts a shirt into  Baekhyun's hands, something plaid with buttons that he can barely get his arms through, and forget about getting it all done up. Jongin is way better than him. He's freshly dressed, and the last button hooked as it lays across his jeans before Baekhyun has even gotten his fingers to cooperate once. He's aware they can't just sit here like this. They have to keep moving. They have to get out of this city. They have to make it to the trading reserve where Chanyeol is and beg him for help if they're going to keep the dam from busting irreparably during the winter. They don't have time for buttons or feelings or thinking about the dead, but when Jongin wrenches his hands away from his shirt and drags him up by his armpits, kissing Jongin is the only thing Baekhyun can think about it. And apparently Jongin too. 

His mouth is hot, their hearts are already beating fast. Baekhyun slips his arms up around Jongin's shoulders and hooks himself around his neck, anything to pull them close, together, to urge Jongin's arms to hold him tight. He's never liked kissing, never gotten the appeal of another's tongue in his mouth, but now the slick muscle does more to comfort him than he's ever known possible, and he never wants it to end. His body turns to flames as Jongin pulls him to his body, the buttons of his shirt pressing into Baekhyun's bare stomach and all Baekhyun wants to do is cling onto Jongin and let himself be rough-handled like the dolls he's seen flung away in abandoned children's rooms. He gets as far as hefting one leg around Jongin's thigh and is halfway considering clinging on by the other when Jongin sets him down, lips pulling away reluctantly as the contact breaks. Jongin pants with his eyes closed, foreheads touching until even that part is lost. 

"We keep moving." His words sound fatal in Baekhyun's mind, like a bucket of ice that freezes him to the bone. But Jongin is already stepping back and flinging his backpack over his shoulders. He reloads both his rifle and Baekhyun's pistol while Baekhyun forces his fingers to work and button up his shirt, all feelings suddenly on mute and physical contact as far removed as Baekhyun's ever felt. 

"Onward then," he says to himself, softly, bitterly.

 

 

 

 

The strange thing about Jongin is that Baekhyun never knows what he's thinking. What he thinks about Baekhyun, what he thinks about life; his thoughts on the functionality of hydroelectric dams for power is about as evident as his opinion for which star is the prettiest at night. The things Jongin just doesn't address because he has no reason to are plenty, so what he thinks of Chanyeol is just another mystery to be added on. 

Their welcome into the mountainside outpost was almost not a given thing. They were met half a mile from the perimeter, the butts of two rifles in their faces, and certainly a few snipers from the trees, so Baekhyun dared not move a muscle. Jongin followed his lead, throwing their weapons on the ground and hands in the air, until somebody demanded they state their purpose. 

"Baekhyun?!" Chanyeol exclaims half an hour later, finally showing up to collect them from accidental gun fire and or a knife wound to his back. The men who accosted them finally back away and Baekhyun breathes a little easier. "Wow, is that you?" 

Chanyeol is all smiles despite his rugged look. He's a few years to forty, but cheerful as ever. His laugh lines are longer, the circles under his eyes a little darker, and somehow he's managed to put on a few extra pounds since the last time Baekhyun saw him. No longer the emaciated skeleton frame, but healthier, happier. 

"Been a while, yeah," says Baekhyun lightly, already embarrassed to be manhandled by the man in front of everyone else. He pushes Chanyeol away, chuckling, and Chanyeol finally relinquishes him from a bone-crushing hug. 

"Baekhyun, wow." 

"You sound surprised. What, did you think I couldn't make it all this way?"

Chanyeol steps back, like a father inspecting a grown son he hasn't seen in ages. His smile, however, tightens. "Been three years since I was at the compound. 'Course I'm not shocked, but... what are you doing here?" 

"Thought you'd be happy," Baekhyun teases, purposefully avoiding the subject. He's tired, Jongin is exhausted. Night is falling and they haven't exactly eaten anything nutritious since half their supplies were lost in the warehouse with the others. Chanyeol continues to observe him, like he can't believe he's really there, and then he notices Jongin.

"It's a long distance. You two come by yourselves?" Chanyeol asks. His tone suggests disbelief at this as well, and Baekhyun already begins to see the hints of dislike reading across Jongin's face. 

"Yeah. This is Jongin. Friend of mine. We... left with two others." 

"Must have been pretty important to take off like you did. How about we talk in the morning, yeah?" 

He shakes Jongin's hand because he must, terse smile and a word of welcome. Jongin may or may not attempt to crush his fingers mid-handshake but Chanyeol blithely ignores it all. Then he calls back some of the guys over his shoulder, directing them to find meals, fresh clothes, a bath, and a couple places to sleep for both Baekhyun and Jongin. 

"We can share, thanks," says Jongin. 

If Chanyeol notices the blush on Baekhyun's face, or even questions what exactly they're about the share - the food, the bath or the bed - he doesn't comment on it, and Baekhyun doesn't have the energy to kick or elbow the other like he wants to. They follow Chanyeol and another man named Yixing past a series of small metal structures that end near the base of the mountain. The wide, metal door is taller than the height of two men, and it makes a horrible, grinding sound opening, and an even louder sound when it bangs closed behind them.  

Everything inside the mountain tunnels is dark and damp, lit sparsely with oil lamps until it opens out. Baekhyun has the feeling of being swallowed by the earth, even after the oil lamps give way to actual electric light and the rock basin turn to tile, smudged a faded white. The tunnels themselves widen and file out in multiple directions, a little more modern the farther in they go, as if the world didn't almost end twenty-five years ago. 

"This used to be a secret military base," Chanyeol explains. "Abandoned though. Long before even the CBI infection." 

Jongin hums, unimpressed. "Who runs it now?"

Chanyeol looks at him. "Who runs what? The base? Several people, nobody in particular. This is a free trade zone. Maybe you can say I'm in control here?" He laughs though to contradict himself. The other fellow doesn't even speak, but follows Baekhyun and Jongin close behind as if he's afraid the two of them may fall behind and get lost. Baekhyun guesses this isn't such a free zone that they'll be allowed to wander wherever they please. 

"Used to be an old Firefly haunt, until they stripped it of half its resources and abandoned it too."

That'll be how Chanyeol knew about it, Baekhyun guesses. He also begins second-guessing Chanyeol's own joke that he runs things. They run into one or two groups of men and women, some in rebel uniforms, some civilians, all of whom greet the older man with extreme deference or else pause in the tunnel to let Chanyeol and the three following him to pass unhindered. Several men look almost surprised to see Chanyeol moving around with 'friends' in his tow. One group happens to ogle Baekhyun a little too closely, causing him to grow uncomfortable, and Chanyeol takes him by the arm to hurry them along. 

"They didn't happen to leave behind the cure for CBI, did they?" Jongin asks, fakely sweet once the four of them are alone again in this part of the tunnel.

Chanyeol laughs, but it's a hollow sound. He leads them down several forks, Baekhyun already thoroughly lost, until stopping at a door. Yixing steps forward, unlocks the bolt and pushes the door open. 

"This is my suite, you might say. But room for guests. Yixing will show you around. If you forgive me though, I have some place to be and then I'll join you later."

"Thanks, Chanyeol," says Baekhyun. And he really means it. If he's really being honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure there would be a welcome as warm at this. He wasn't sure they would live long enough to even see if there'd be a welcome like this. All the dangers they faced, the deaths they escaped, nearly shitting his pants when the 'free trade zone' militia shoved a gun in his face. It's been a long week and a long life, and Baekhyun wishes he need never go anywhere again. And the fact that Jongin is here with him isn't exactly a comfort, not with the emotional strife he also puts Baekhyun through. 

Something of all these worries must show on his face, because before Chanyeol turns to leave, his mouth open to say something else, he pauses, closes his lips and then slowly drags Baekhyun into another comforting hug. The same as the many times he's done this in their life. When Baekhyun was a child and had no one else, when he was a teenager and still coming to terms with being alive in a world such as theirs. 

"Get some rest, Baekhyun," Chanyeol says in his hair. "You deserve it, coming all this way." Then he leaves.

By the time Yixing shows him through several sets of clinical looking rooms and a bathroom, making his exit with the promise of some food, Baekhyun is near to bristling from the tension Jongin is putting off, practically on fire. Baekhyun ignores him, at least as much as one can ignore a firecracker with an extremely short fuse. They bump shoulders, throwing their packs down on the ground. Jongin begins to strip without further hesitation, shoving past Baekhyun into the overly lit bathroom. He watches him pass, admiring the muscles down his back and thighs while peering into the room. There's a drain on the floor, a spigot high on the wall and a bucket in the corner of the room.

"Guess this place isn't as 5-star as your friend seems to pretend." Jongin kicks the bucket which sloshes a little from the old urine left inside, sniffs his nose and then ignores it to pay attention to the spigot and handle. Water squeaks through the pipes, sputtering out of the faucet in short, shallow bursts, before gathering a steady stream. Baekhyun pulls off his shirt while Jongin tests the water and winces. "Stone cold too. Feels just like home. Come on, Baek. You need a shower. How else then will the old man want to hug you again?"

 

 

 

 

They don't get to see Chanyeol again until the next morning. Or rather, Baekhyun assumes it's morning. With no sunlight to tell the time, he wakes up only on Yixing's entry. The man greets them emotionlessly, tells them to get dressed, and then actually waits in the room while the two of them wake up. Baekhyun yawns and rolls the wrong way off the mattress. The right way would be towards the floor, a bare half foot from the frame-less mattress. As it is, he accidentally rolls across a half-naked Jongin, knee right into the other's crotch. Yixing's slight chuckle-cough is the first hint the man has a sense of humor, not that Jongin shares it at the moment. 

"I thought this was Chanyeol's suite?" Baekhyun asks Yixing as he pulls on his pants. "Didn't he come back last night?"

The man smiles, almost mystically. "He is a busy man. Sometimes he doesn't quite make it to sleep at night in his own bed. He has--" but then Yixing stops himself and smiles again apologetically. Jongin, still grimacing, pulls a shirt over his head while Yixing waits patiently and Baekhyun doesn't ask any further questions. He's anxious for their meeting, for when he has to ask for a tremendously big favor and not just catch up like old friends. 

Breakfast is a silent affair, eating with Yixing in a small luncheon facility with only a few other strangers mingling about the room. Baekhyun's stomach is a mess of nerves. He wants to see Chanyeol and get this over with. And then he wants to go home. The compound may not be as safe a facility, but it's familiar to him. Open to him. The people and children are friendly to him. Now, right at this moment, everything about the mountain safezone makes his senses tingle. Every noise, every spoken word, even the way Jongin slurps down the gruel provided irritates Baekhyun more than he can say. 

"Are we going to see him now-" Baekhyun starts to ask impatiently.

"Yes," Yixing answers before he can finish. 

When they meet Chanyeol again, it's a haggard looking man that greets him, circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept all night. His smile is as friendly as ever, although underneath it Baekhyun sees the telltale signs of age and stress. Chanyeol greets them both with handshakes this morning, saying even Jongin's name without a second of hesitation. 

"Sorry I never came back to greet you last night. There... there was some activity in the valley shortly after dark."

"Infected?" Jongin asks surprised.

"Yes. Might be that some followed you back. Or they might have already been in the area." He shrugs, but then dares a cheeky smile. "No casualties though, at least not on our side." 

"You speak like you're military," says Jongin tonelessly. Baekhyun doesn't respond. The fort is more militant than he would have expected. The last he knew of Chanyeol, the man despised rebels-for-pay, but any sort of thing might have happened recently. Baekhyun had no idea what was really going on with the world behind his own little zone.

Chanyeol hesitates, as if considering his words. "Everyone's a soldier out here," is his final answer.

"Are they?" says Jongin, one eyebrow cocked.

"Aren't you?"

To that there is no reply, but Chanyeol dismisses the interrogation outright, shaking his head of the topic and training his eyes once more on Baekhyun, expectantly. 

"We need some help," Baekhyun says with a small smile. He then proceeds to list the parts and machinery detail for detail like Boa had taught him while Chanyeol nods and hums, and it takes them the better part of an hour for him to consider everything before promising to do the best he can.

 

 

 

"He has  _some_  power here," Jongin says to Baekhyun later on that day. 

"What do you mean?"

After Chanyeol begged give him some time to get some work done, Baekhyun had complained about being cooped up inside the mountain. His old friend then called for Yixing who lead the guests up a flight of stairs and through several corridors.  _The Lookout_ , he explained finally, as Baekhyun breathed fresh air. The door lead to a ledge, well fortified from the cliff it hung over, but there were skies and trees and a horizon. Everything Baekhyun needed to make it through the day. 

"I mean, I suspect he may actually be in charge around here," Jongin says, after checking that Yixing had closed the door behind them and no one could hear. The ledge wasn't large, only big enough for a few people to stand on next to the rail which framed the area before connecting back into the side of a wall, the only hint that a building was hidden within the mountain. Above them, if Baekhyun leaned back along the rail, several mountain peaks loomed in the distance, and despite being high off the ground, the peaks above made Baekhyun feel even smaller. 

"I suspect that too, but what is your point?" he asks blandly.

"I mean, this place is set up and run like a rebel base. I thought you said your friend was an ex-Firefly merchant/trader?"

"Well, he is that," says Baekhyun. "At least he  _was_. That part hasn't changed. But I repeat, what is your point?"

Instead of answering, Jongin grumbles instead, wordlessly ruminating over nothing. It's not unfamiliar to Baekhyun, Jongin acting like this. He so infrequently says what's on his mind, rarely sharing his thoughts with anybody, least of all Baekhyun, and Baekhyun gave up long ago trying to pry things out of him. Jongin speaks with actions rather than words, and when he does neither then Baekhyun hasn't a clue what to do with him.

It's been like this since shortly after they came together.  _Together_ , or whatever that word entails. Was it mere convenience that drew Jongin to his bed? The lack of other available partners? Grief over what happened to their previous lovers? Why Baekhyun, why not someone else? Why anyone if Jongin had no emotions to share other than lust. 

"Maybe he can lend us some of his  _rebels_ ," Baekhyun spits softly, "to help us get home."

A full minute goes by, Baekhyun and Jongin standing side-by-side against the rail, before the other speaks again. "Home? You mean the river compound?"

Baekhyun nods needlessly. "Where else?"

Jongin smirks loudly. "I'm sure he would, if  _you_ asked him." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Again, he smirks, but to Baekhyun's question he refuses to reply. "Why there though? Why not go somewhere else. Anywhere?" 

"Where is there to go?" Baekhyun scoffs. The horizon holds many vistas, but nowhere is safe. Nowhere is really welcome. There is no home except for the places he already knows, and none of those places were terribly appealing. Baekhyun has seen a lot, and years of traveling with Chanyeol were enough for that to sink in. The compound though with the high fences and the hydroelectric dam and the earthy lots where they grew their food, none of that was exactly picturesque or ideal, but it was something  _known_. A place where Baekhyun could make a small difference in the world, whereas chasing after bigger dreams and cures and fighting against the police state made him feel like a peon, just another cog in the system and dispensable. Everyone was dispensable, but Baekhyun hoped that when he went out of this world, somebody would actually think about him. Actually miss him. Or miss the place in which he fit. Perhaps one day Baekhyun would die, or become infected and die, but at least a kid like Jungkook would think about him during his daily practices in archery. Or else years later when he would pull back an arrow to kill a deer, Baekhyun's face would swim before his mind.

Maybe Jongin would think about him and reminisce, just as Baekhyun remembered Luhan's bright face. And Minseok's shy smiles. Or Junmyeon's laughter. Or the first boy who ever took his fancy. He was sixteen and Kyungsoo was seventeen but the elder was just a tiny bit too slow. He bore a tear in his leg from an infected's jaw for several hours. Baekhyun would always remember the face of the creature that had attacked them, bulbous features and rotted skin, skeletal body and its head blasted away into countless pieces from Chanyeol's shotgun. Kyungsoo's lifeless eyes when Chanyeol more mercifully held his hand and shot him straight between the eyes. Baekhyun didn't even cry. He just turned away and clenched his jaw, shut his eyes and the sound of the weapon firing wasn't anything different than what he'd heard his entire life, and it almost didn't make a difference. Almost.

"I want to go home, Jongin."

The other just sighs, not looking at Baekhyun, before he says, "Yeah. Alright. We'll go home."

 

 

 

 

Leaving though appears to take longer and become more difficult than Baekhyun expects. Chanyeol insists that they stay a full week while he makes the necessary arrangements - including organizing transport for the supplies they need and the manpower to do it. He refuses to let Baekhyun go back alone without an escort and the longer he delays, the more fed up Jongin becomes with their stay. 

"We got here in one piece just fine!" he positively shouts at Chanyeol one day, after more vacillating talks delay their return trip home.

"Yes, and you lost half of your crew in the attempt! The same odds tell me that  _Baekhyun_  could very well be dead before  _you_  return home!" 

Baekhyun has no power to prevent them from fighting. Every day the two find something to clash about, whether it's the space they're allowed to occupy inside the mountain, the number of militia and personnel who happen to 'check up' on them periodically, the sometimes unemptied slosh bucket in their bathroom, or Baekhyun's comfort and mental health which requires that he see the sunlight at least once a day. Sometimes they aren't allowed to visit the ledge at all, and Baekhyun spends that time trying to draw stories out of Yixing, or else puttering through a stack of old books pre-CBI with the covers falling off. Jongin is not so easily occupied. 

"Is that how you always do it then?" Jongin asks him one afternoon. It may already be evening, but it's hard to tell inside and underground.

"How I do what?" Baekhyun remarks without looking up from his book, a heavy volume of depressing Russian literature of which Baekhyun can't get past the second page and he's been trying for several hours. Jongin leans back on the mattress staring at the unadorned tile ceiling, and the only other interesting thing he's done all day was work out and do push ups. That was an hour ago and he hasn't spoken since then.

"Sit around and do nothing. Charm people into taking care of you and then letting them run around like chickens with their heads cut off while they do your will?"

Slowly, Baekhyun folds his book shut and lays it aside. "Excuse me?"

"Just a question," Jongin murmurs lazily.

Baekhyun begs to disagree. "Like hell it is. Jongin, what the fuck are you actually on about?!" 

"I said nothing."

"You're damn right, you said nothing. Nothing that's actually worth listening to." Baekhyun turns his head away in disgust, about to pick up the book again and flip straight to the third page, when he hears Jongin mutter something half under his breath and then scoff. "What? What was that?" 

"Nothing." Jongin tries to brush it off.

" _I said_ , what was that?"

Jongin sighs, like he's looking for a fight, and Baekhyun is just bored enough to give him one. So too, apparently, is Jongin. "I said, maybe if you actually acted like you gave a shit about life, or people, they wouldn't all end up leaving you."

Baekhyun's eyes narrow, borderline staring Jongin to death and he feels his jaw clench and every muscle in his body, including his lungs, start to fume. "What... do you even know about the people in my life?" he says evenly, carefully. 

Jongin cocks a grin. He reclines on his elbows now, head and torso lifted off the mattress and one knee up like it'll give him an edge to this fight. "Just saying... maybe if you'd cared about Luhan a tiny bit more, he wouldn't have followed me and Minseok on that expedition." 

Baekhyun is still, sitting against the wall, legs crossed. "You think that has something to do with me?" he counters, dangerously close to losing his cool. 

"I know it does. I saw it. I  _heard_  it. You want to know what they were doing, the night before they died?"

"No-" says Baekhyun quickly, but Jongin doesn't stop.

"They were  _fucking_. Your lover, my boyfriend. Luhan complaining about how he needed something more. Some _one_  more. Like you weren't enough." 

"And that's my fault?" Baekhyun's voice wavers, anger giving out even past his disgust. "Is that why you treat me like shit? Because I wasn't good enough for Luhan that he had to go and steal your precious boyfriend? Is that what this is about? What it's  _always_  been about?!"

Jongin doesn't answer. He bites his lip, as if wondering how far he wants to go. Baekhyun, however, has had enough. He pushes to his knees and crawls across the floor towards Jongin. The other actually looks shocked to see him move, and that empowers Baekhyun to keep on going. "Is that why?! Jongin?" He shoves him once back onto the mattress, Jongin falling with a grunt of surprise, of disbelief. "Is that why? Tell me then, why is it you came after me? Because you wanted confirmation? Proof that  _I_  was the inferior one, and therefore it couldn't possibly be  _you_  that wasn't good enough!?" Another shove, when Jongin tries to sit up again. "How come you're not talking now, huh?"

"Forget it," Jongin growls, again trying to dislodge Baekhyun who swings his leg over Jongin's hip instead, pinning him down.

"Oh, no it's too late for that. You're the one bringing the dead back to life worse than any virus ever could. So answer me, yeah? You blamed me? Tell me what you really think. Do I leave you satisfied? Or have you gotten your fill and now you're done with me now too? Because I tell you what, Jongin," he says, knee practically lodged in the center of Jongin's groin, arms holding down his wrists right beside Jongin's head. Baekhyun sneers. "You've fucked me several dozen times now, and not  _once_  was it  _really_  good."

If anything, Jongin's expression darkens, mischievously, and Baekhyun wonders just what he has gotten himself into. 

"You think you can compare? Do it better?" says Jongin.

He shifts his wrists upwards, drawing Baekhyun's hands along with them so that Baekhyun topples over him, chest at the level of Jongin's face. His hands lose their grip, and Jongin's are free, but just as he expects retaliation or Jongin fighting him in turn, instead Jongin seizes him by the waist, pulling him back down so that their lips align. 

Baekhyun cries out, before Jongin swallows the sound. 

It's different this time, Baekhyun setting the pace even as Jongin squirms beneath him, hands all over his back bunching up the fabric. Baekhyun gasps, drawing away to draw breath before attacking Jongin once more. Now that he knows where this is going, where he knows they both want it to go. Jongin's mouth is warm and wet, even with the bland aroma of their last practically tasteless meal. Baekhyun doesn't do kisses well, but somehow, like this, he doesn't really mind. When Jongin makes no effort to flip him over, he draws his legs up, kneeling on bent knees that bracket Jongin's hips. He holds himself up by his elbows and cups Jongin's head, long fingers dragging through the other's loose flying hair. It takes the pressure off Jongin's body, but Jongin only groans when he loses contact. 

His eyes when next opens them look completely blown from Baekhyun's angle. His lips are puffy, and his throat constricts violently when Baekhyun reaches down to lick it from collarbone to chin and up to his ear. Jongin untangles one hand from the back of Baekhyun's shirt to pull at his own shirt, first down so that Baekhyun can see more of his chest, and when that isn't enough, he drags it up from his stomach instead. 

"So that's how you want it?" Baekhyun whispers heavily. He holds himself up by his palms while Jongin removes his shirt entirely. The article lands not far from his head where he stretches his arms above, and then he stays there, lungs heaving, mouth open, eyes watching Baekhyun darkly, totally exposed. Then he smirks.

"Like I said, if you think you can do better..." 

Baekhyun runs a hand across the crest of his hip, pressing through the thin fabric of his trousers, teasing his thigh and then wiping the sly little smile off Jongin's face when he cups his half-hard cock. He presses up with the palm of his hand, and Jongin whines low and loud. Baekhyun whips off his shirt, then leans down to kiss him again, completely ignoring that this is unfamiliar territory, that Jongin laying back like this is new and different, and a little bit intoxicating. He slaps Jongin's arms down so that they'll do something, wrap around Baekhyun's body or remove his pants, anything to be constructive since Baekhyun is no longer thinking clearly. His only thoughts are on how much he's always wanted to do this, to give back. But Jongin, he was always so particular, so clear with his physical desires, that Baekhyun never thought...

"Maybe I can." Wrenching Jongin's pants down with one hand, slipping them down the right hip, then the left hip, then right again, as Jongin holds his hips in the air, he grasps him finally without obstacle. "Want to find out, Jongin?" Baekhyun asks with his lips poised right above Jongin's. He licks his lips, watching delighted how even that much makes the other whimper with need, want, whispering words without sound. "What was that?" he asks again, coaxing the answer.

"Yes, yes... please," Jongin whispers, eyes rolling back in his head while Baekhyun strokes his cock slowly, softly, agonizingly not as hard as Jongin wants. 

It takes little effort to divest Jongin's legs one by one from his pants and then roll him over onto his knees. Even less to lean over his back and place tiny kisses into the nape of his neck trailing down his spine while Baekhyun keeps pace stroking Jongin to full hardness, loving the way he comes to life in his hand until he's panting and his cock is hanging heavy. He holds in him in place with a hand between his thighs, not yet prying Jongin apart, but keeping him pliant, anchored, just his thumb teasing the roundness of the sac nestled at the base of his cock. 

It's a once-practiced hand that fumbles for the bag laying just off the mattress; it takes two hands to pry off the lid of the small jar; and it takes several fingers and his tongue to make room for his cock. With his pants pushed down to his knees, Baekhyun slides in as slow as he dares, fighting his need to come straight away. He holds his breath, almost hiccuping at the sensation, hands bracketing Jongin's shuddering hips. 

"Nice and slow, huh?" Baekhyun taunts him. "Just how you like it, yeah?"

He pulls out insanely slow until just the tip remains, Jongin quivering around it, begging for more, but Baekhyun holds it. It's the biggest exercise in control he's ever put upon himself, thrusting in and out without rush, without speed, stroking Jongin just as the same until the man is whining, pleading, near crying. He thrusts backwards to meet Baekhyun but fails to connect, Baekhyun letting go of his cock in time to hold him still, and the groan Jongin lets out goes straight to pit of his stomach, flaring around the base of his cock as he pushes Jongin lightly forward. Jongin's head lands on the mattress, cheek pressed to the blanket there and Baekhyun drags both his arms back towards him until they lay flat and upended, even with his knees which support his ass, the only part of his body still in the air. Baekhyun curls his nails against Jongin's hands, teasing the sensintive skin of his palms, before wrapping his long fingers around Jongin's wrists. He yanks them back roughly, at the same time thrusting deep inside Jongin's ready body. It's just enough leverage to hold him up and keep Jongin down, a steady pace of hard slaps and muffled grunts. 

Jongin's a silent bedmate, the kind that wills Baekhyun to hold his sounds as well, as if by keeping quiet he can savor the few moans that Jongin does divulge, each one more precious than the last. It's only by the shift in his breath that Baekhyun knows he's about to come, hips no longer meeting Baekhyun's with regularity. Baekhyun lets go of his wrists and wraps his hands around his waist instead, pausing long enough himself to jerk Jongin through the last stage of strain until he's coming right over his hand, and before he's done, Baekhyun buries his face in Jongin's shoulder blade and pistons his cock inside, dragging extra viciously against the tight walls of Jongin's flesh. He bites back his moans, eyes clamping shut as the heat overwhelms him and he lets himself go.

Somewhere between Jongin coming down from his high and Baekhyun still hanging on the last vestiges of his, Jongin crawls forward enough that Baekhyun slides out. He loses to gravity, falling forward towards the mattress except that Jongin catches him. Jongin is flipped onto his back, legs spread wide and he drags Baekhyun onto him. It's so unexpected, the kiss he finds himself pouring into, Jongin's hands around his head, fingers digging through his hair, and Baekhyun collapses, completely boneless, to the comfort of Jongin's legs wrapping around the backs of his thighs. 

Their bodies are clammy, a mixture of sweat and cum, but Jongin's mouth is the essence of comfort, warm and demanding, tongue seeking his and lips devouring his own. 

Baekhyun's never been good with emotions. They're not his forte, never been his thing. And kisses, to his mind, have always been a sort of complicated thing.  _Jongin,_  is a complicated thing, the whole idea of him. The very idea of being with him, being used by him, perhaps being manipulated by him for lack of a better test subject. Baekhyun, the only person in the compound without a real significant other, whose losses had been many but whose emotions were few. Kyungsoo, Luhan, with all their human potential, wasted and sent to rot. Relationships never given the ability to develop.  Time had never allowed it. Their lives hadn't allowed it. Their deaths definitely not. And with every loss Baekhyun closed up inside.

How many more losses had Jongin possibly endured?

Kissing him now is unfamiliar ground. But their bodies are sated, adrenaline wearing off. Baekhyun is tired, of everything. Of a life lived in fear, of always being on the run, from monsters and humans alike. Running from his thoughts and his desires. And now there's nowhere else to go except down, down, into Jongin's arms and body, plunging further inside his heart than the bare sex they'd had a moment ago, Jongin's mouth more desirable than in between his legs.  

"One of these days," Baekhyun whispers close to his ear, chin digging into the crook of Jongin's neck, hands clasped around his biceps. 

Jongin murmurs in encouragement, two arms holding him close, legs still bracketing his hips. "Yeah?"

"One of these days... we're going to continue this discussion, okay?"

There's a rumble from somewhere deep in Jongin's chest, a hint of a chuckle begging to come out. However, Jongin stifles it. "Yeah," he says softly, graciously. 

Baekhyun hopes it's close to nighttime somewhere outside the mountain, because when Jongin draws a blanket up to cover them, he doesn't feel like going anywhere for a little while.

 

 

 

 

They only leave the camp close to three weeks later, and it's a long three weeks of false starts and stalled plans. Every day Chanyeol promises them  _soon soon_ , and more _soon_ s, and instead the excuses keep piling upon each other. Lack of ground support due to an incident yesterday, inability to move the supplies due to... something; locators noting that the Infected are on the move again. Sometimes it's just the fucking weather, but when Baekhyun gains access to the ledge for a breath of air, it's sunny and warm. 

"Maybe these people have been underground too long and they can't see during the daylight," Jongin says snarkily.

Having sex like they did, unsurprisingly doesn't change much between them, as Baekhyun comes to find out. Most of the time Jongin wavers from being sassy to just acting like an absolute jerk. When his mouth is open, he complains nonstop about Chanyeol, the whole mountain complex, and even Yixing for only ever displaying one emotion: a blasé air mystery. Baekhyun is less argumentative about it, at least in front of the others. He smiles apologetically at everyone Jongin cusses out, scolds Jongin later - to no avail - but then privately agrees that there's something odd about the place, and about Chanyeol's role in it. 

But it's better sometimes, when it's just the two of them, never  _acting_ like they're together, because they just  _are_. Chanyeol notices it, Yixing notices it. Occasionally Jongin notices them noticing it, but his scowls do nothing. In front of the others they barely speak, but at night they do more than that. Kissing, rutting, a clash of carnal desires that's more akin to love-making than what it was before, and Baekhyun doesn't ask what has changed, either in himself or in Jongin. Perhaps it's as simple them needing each other more, or maybe it goes deeper than that. In any case, it's painful living under a microscope in an already very small living spot, so the day when Chanyeol finally relinquishes them to return home comes as a relief.

They won't go back with a full escort, because Chanyeol says the base can't spare the men, not yet anyway. Instead, he assigns them a single fighter, a man by the name of Yifan who they've never seen before. 

"He'll get the two of you home safe," Chanyeol says, to Jongin's blistering pride. "And don't worry about the dam. If I can't send someone with the supplies to you before winter, I'll make the trip myself." 

There are fewer hugs given and shared on their way out than when they arrived, and only a marginally few smiles, because Chanyeol is a busy man, evidently. Nevertheless, Baekhyun's restless legs are happy to be on the move again, and he knows Jongin feels the same. 

Yifan doesn't talk much. It might just be his personality, but out in the wilderness it's actually a survival instinct. None of them talk much, for fear of what might be listening. They decide to avoid the abandoned quarantine zone, opting for the slightly longer route, but out here it's safer among the woods and old county roads that no one traverse anymore. There are no rebels or bandits on the road, almost no infected until the end of the first week, a few clickers several years turned that have fallen into a ravine. Their animalistic grunts do nothing more than make Baekhyun's heart pound and quiver, but Jongin holds his hand while Yifan leads the way along a cliffside above and away from the infected. The three of them tiptoe across, succeed in not drawing their attention, and finally they can breathe easily.

They're halfway home, and already Baekhyun is thinking about that concept:  _home_. What it means, what it's ever meant. Before it was just the place that Baekhyun felt relatively comfortable in, the dam and the two-building complex and the familiar faces and children. His small existence fitting right into the lifestyle, like a cog in the network that keeps them going.

It's enough, isn't it? he thinks to himself once, late into the night where no stars shine and the only sounds come from Yifan and Jongin breathing in their sleep. Baekhyun runs a hand through Jongin's hair, his head resting atop his lap for a pillow while Baekhyun sinks back against a fallen log. When Jongin's not looking, Baekhyun can stare at him without duress, taking in every tiny detail of his face. His skin is rough from wear, speckled with fading scars and his eyelashes are short, but they draw Baekhyun's fingertips like a moth to a candle. He smiles at Jongin's unconscious reaction, several wrinkles across his forehead and his nose twitches. 

It's enough, right? Having a small place to sleep in a loft and managing their supplies and seeing that the cellars are stocked for winter, waiting around to see whether or not the people he loves will come home or not. There's only a tiny, nagging thought in the back of Baekhyun's mind that suggests, maybe that's not good enough. But his options otherwise are few. 

He strokes Jongin's lashes again, determined to catch the wrinkle this time with his fingers, not stopping until - eyes still shut - Jongin shifts in his lap and a hand catches Baekhyun around the wrist. "Baek..." Jongin whispers softly, his voice barely audible, "I'm trying to sleep." 

Baekhyun relents, but Jongin never takes his hand away, and it's thus that they sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

Even from a distance, Baekhyun knows something is wrong. Jongin senses it too, his feet stopping in their tracks as the first whiff of smoke reaches their nostrils. Something in Baekhyun's gut hits the ground, and then he starts running. 

"Baekhyun, wait!" Jongin shouts after him, but rushing to keep up. 

Baekhyun doesn't stop. For several minutes he doesn't care about himself, his safety, or even Jongin's. He doesn't care what he's running into or what exactly find there, not when his head is swimming under a barrage of words and exclamations:  _No no no no no, it can't be, no no no...!_

Except that it is. His home, the place he just wanted to return to, is destroyed. Most of it is smoldering ashes, the fences pushed down, the dam blasted into a thousand pieces. Only part of the building structures are still standing, just a few walls, and concrete blocks. The rest of smokes from a fire that must have raged for days, weeks. There's a stench of death and gunpowder hanging perversely over the air, and Baekhyun can no longer hold onto the contents of his stomach. His knees hit the earth seconds before he wretches, eyes going hazy as the faces of everyone he's known swim before him. All of the dead in his life, all of the new possible dead. What happened here? What happened to Bo Ah and Sehun, the rest of their technicians and hunters and mothers and fathers and children? What happened to Jungkook, and why, why did this happen at all?!

He feels Jongin come up behind him, kneeling cautiously with his hands on Baekhyun's back. Somewhere behind him is Yifan, kicking up his heels in the dust as they survey the scene before them. Gone, everything is gone. 

"Jongin," he grunts, in between spitting the sour taste of vomit out of his throat. "Jongin... what...?"

"I don't-" but then he stops, and when Baekhyun glances up it's to see Jongin steadily observing the rubble of the dam and the low bridge above him. His expression is grim, hard. But finally Baekhyun gets it too. This was no accident, no random explosion, not even a sporadic zombie attack. Even hoards of infected could not cause the amount of damage and destruction they see all around them now. Only... 

"Get up," Jongin says, already on his feet. 

He doesn't have to ask why. Crouched within the ruined shell of the building are the infected, runners. Whoever may have survived the slaughter but wasn't fast enough to escape the second wave of scavengers. Baekhyun doesn't have time to put faces to bodies, he doesn't want to see. They aren't people, not anymore. They're nobody he recognizes, because they wouldn't recognize him. He pats his pocket for the shiv, just in case, but draws his bow instead, already fitting an arrow to the notch by the time the first of them gets near. Jongin and Yifan are faster. Two runners' heads explode from the force of their gunshots, and another two behind them. Baekhyun snags a fifth with an arrow, but the thing is too fast for him. It barely pierces the side of its neck and she - or whoever she was before - keeps on running. It's a frightening, sickening sound. The shrieks of despair and confusion, of hunger, desire for contact. Blood streaks down her bulbous, once pale neck and face, hands in the air, and before Baekhyun can try again, Jongin shoots her dead, for good this time. Then it's quiet, for just a a moment. Long enough for Baekhyun's comprehension to sink in and realize he recognizes the remnants of the shirt on the body. He saw it last before he and Jongin slid down the pole in the quarantine zone. Seohyun. 

So at least she made it back, just in time for this. 

But now is not the time to mourn. A quick survey of the complex is enough to note that there aren't any more infected, or at least none that have noticed them. Any that might have been around the facility would have come to them by now, so Baekhyun thinks they're in the clear. Instead, Jongin rounds upon Yifan before the man has a chance to catch his breath, causing him to slip backwards and fall into the dirt. His weapon hits the ground too, inches from his hand. 

"You!" Jongin shouts, aiming the barrel of his rifle straight at Yifan's head. "Don't move." 

Baekhyun watches them both warily. Yifan looks shocked, but not scared. With his elbows digging into the ground, elevating his head, he has only the tiniest bit of leverage with which to defend himself. However, he doesn't. "Okay?" he asks, confused but with a controlled voice.

"Explain this to me," says Jongin, finger on the trigger.

"Explain, what?"

"This." Jongin nudges his head towards the destroyed, burnt out buildings, but without turning his head. Baekhyun already knows what he's referring to. For starters, the numerous marks of explosives and gunfire against the few remaining structures. Traces left by machine guns, the hollow ruts in the dirt of a tank that's now long gone. 

"What about this?" Yifan keeps his cool, which infuriates Jongin. 

He stamps on Yifan's ankle with the heavy heel of his boot, not hard enough to break it but enough to strain it, causing Yifan to grimace in pain although he still does not move to reach his weapon. 

"Your people," Jongin insinuates, "at the mountain base. Don't lie to me and pretend they had nothing to do with this. This has their handiwork printed all over the place! So tell me, who ordered it? Was it Chanyeol? Is that why he kept us from leaving for so long? So that your troops could get here first?"

Baekhyun remains still and strangely emotionless as his mind tries to process the whole thing just a few seconds behind Jongin's verbal accusations. He hopes, he prays that Yifan will deny it. Even if it gets him a bullet in the head for it, he just wants to hear him deny it. Instead, Yifan smirks, the barest crack of a smile. 

"You think Chanyeol would have the guts to do this? That weakling?" He spits into the dirt, still not moving, looking as if the game is up and all he's waiting on is for Jongin to lose his temper. He doesn't though.

"So it was someone there," Jongin says evenly, eyes narrowing. "Who, then? Who, if it wasn't Chanyeol?"

Yifan smirks again, bigger this time, and Baekhyun resumes breathing, his hands slowly moving on their own accord, unbeknownst to the two of them. 

"Who!" Jongin yells even louder. "And what's your purpose here? What were your orders? To kill us too?" 

Yifan laughs, the first time Baekhyun's ever heard it. "You two? I've got no purpose with either of you. On your own like this, you're no threat. This complex though," he sweeps his head towards the right, "you were getting a little too... advanced for some people's likes."

"Whose likes?" Jongin continues to insist. "Yours? Yixing's?"

Yifan doesn't answer, but even doing that much seems to confirm it. Baekhyun almost wishes he could feel more. Betrayal, denial, anger, outrage. Anything other than the emotionless vacuum he has inside him now, confirmed and deadened along with Seohyun's ruined body.  The sad thing about everything in this life is that aren't any true bad guys, not if you look at it from each person's perspective. Just a lot of people trying to get by, either through theft or power or, worst of all, self-preservation however they see fit. Humanity starts it, and humanity ends it. How much saner are the people who can no longer think, how much more merciful are the infected who only have one drive, to exist. No longer culpable to their actions, not like the rest of them, the last of the survivors in a world ruined by disease, and ruined further through oppression and warfare. 

Yifan isn't that different from any of them, neither is Yixing. Neither is Chanyeol who probably thinks he's doing a world of good, sitting on top of a land mine arsenal of weapons to one day retake the cities from the police state, if that's indeed what they will do. Baekhyun doesn't know. Baekhyun doesn't care. The cities aren't his home. The complex is no longer his home. Nowhere is home.

Later on in the afternoon, he and Jongin will find a few scraps of evidence littered throughout the rubble. Fresh prints in the dust signifying that not everyone may have died. There aren't enough bodies there for that. Some of their little family had to have made it out, packing up scraps from the underground cellars and taking off north. Maybe their friends have gone that way. Maybe Tao got out. Maybe Jungkook. Maybe Jongin and Baekhyun will join them, and maybe they won't. It's possible they'll never find them, and perhaps that's okay. Together at least they'll figure it out. 

They leave Yifan lying in the dirt with an arrow stretching clean through his neck from one side to the other, blood dripping from the entry and exit wounds, and Baekhyun's bow now trapped back across his back. Jongin never even fired his weapon, he was so stunned. 

"You looked away for half a second," Baekhyun shrugged and explained. "He was going for his pistol. Now, come on, let's get out of here, yeah?" 

Jongin's eyes mirror Yifan's for half a second, wide-open and glazed over. Then he steps back from the body, nods at Baekhyun and agrees. "Yeah, let's get out of here." 

 

 

 

End.

 

 


End file.
